


A Hundred Worlds

by Lamachine



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Addict AU, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Doctor Who AU, Exes Meeting Again AU, F/F, Knocking on wrong door AU, Meeting at the ER AU, Meeting in jail AU, One Shot Collection, Teacher/Single Parent AU, meeting at a wedding au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamachine/pseuds/Lamachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of AUs from different prompts I filled over on Tumblr. Ratings from G to E.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bike Fic (vampire!Root) [E]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first AU was a mix of five different prompts; dancing, shower scene, sex on a bike, Root taking Shaw from behind and vampire!Root. It's smut, obviously. E-rated.
> 
> Written for tingggmusic, shadowkira, karastantons, sporty-clone and dalvirohan.

Shaw ate only great food, didn’t smoke, and rarely drank too much alcohol. She jogged every morning and kept her body sharp. In between all those healthy habits, really, who could blame her if she liked, once in a while, to spend the night with a vampire? And if it was the same one every time, didn’t that prove that she wasn’t entirely out of her mind?

 

Her partner Cole didn’t approve at all, but Cole wasn’t here, and Shaw had the night off. 

 

She swallowed another mouthful of her beer before Root pulled the bottle out of her hand and set it aside on the table. Behind her, some bikers cheered and roared, and Shaw smirked when Root rolled her eyes.

 

Root had picked a song in the old jukebox and Shaw didn’t care much what it was – she hated when Root made a show of herself, with her terrible pick-up lines and her over-the-top confidence, like she knew everything all the time. Tonight, she had decided she was going to offer Shaw a lap-dance and Shaw hadn’t argued, expecting some second-hand embarrassment. For a vampire, Root sure wasn’t all that smooth.

 

The song started slow and Root circled around Shaw’s chair like a predator coming down on her prey, and Shaw’s mouth dried up, strong hands running over her shoulder and reminding her that she was just that.

 

When Root’s hips started swaying with the rhythm Shaw smirked, eyes stuck on her. It seemed like the whole bar had turned to stare at Root at the same time, but Shaw couldn’t really blame them. In her tight black pants and her revealing blue top, Root had already caught a lot of eyes when they had entered the bar an hour ago. It was only fitting that, as she lap-danced for Shaw, she made heads turn.

 

Root lifted her hands slowly as she swayed, fingers brushing against the fabric of her clothes, dangerously lifting the top and revealing the skin underneath before it fell back down. Shaw bit her lower lip when Root turned around, dancing closer to her and Shaw couldn’t help but place a hand on Root’s thigh, a thumb dangerously slipping under Root’s top. She swallowed hardly when Root spun around quickly, landing on Shaw’s lap and grinding against her.

 

The bikers went wild at that and Shaw closed her fists, but Root smirked. “Play nice,” she whispered in Shaw’s ear before she licked her neck and Shaw could only imagine how it would feel to have those teeth inside her again. She flicked her eyes closed for a moment, and Root chose this moment to return to her feet, snapping Shaw back to attention.

 

The song went on as Root taunted Shaw, hands running through hair – often hers, but sometimes Shaw’s – and hips moving to the sensuously slow rhythmic of the song. Shaw licked her lips once again when Root leaned over her, a wicked grin stuck on her features.

 

Behind her, some drunken biker took the opportunity to grab a feel, and before he could take his hand off Root’s ass Shaw had already broken his wrist, her other hand holding on to her gun. The song continued in the background even though no one danced, the gang sizing up Shaw, getting ready to fight her. Shaw kept the man’s hand into hers, violently pushing against the fracture and the guy cried out loudly.

 

“Now now,” Root smirked, “you boys know you can look, but you can’t touch.”

 

She flashed a smile and her white fangs made a few of them flinch. Behind the bar, the waiter shifted from one feet to the other, nervous.

 

“We’re going to leave now,” Root added, one hand running down Shaw’s tensed muscles. “If you follow us outside, I’ll let her kill you all.”

 

Shaw dropped the guy’s arm and made it to the exit, flinching when Root’s hand found hers. In the parking lot she let it go roughly, going straight for her motorcycle as she returned to gun to its holster, staring as Root took her time joining her.

 

“You’re driving again,” she said, grinning as if it was some private joke.

 

Not answering, Shaw shoved a helmet in Root’s stomach. “Come on, we don’t have all night.”

 

Because of the helmet she missed how Root moaned in agreement, but not the way her hands lingered at Shaw’s breasts before they encircled her waist. Against Shaw’s back, Root’s body was as cold as the night, and yet Shaw found it oddly comfortable. The engine roared loudly and she sprinted forward, the wheels biting the road as she accelerated.

 

They hadn’t turned the corner that already Root’s hand snaked its way down.

 

“Root,” Shaw warned, and even without looking behind her she knew it had no effect.

 

The fingers quickly undid her belt and unzipped her pants, and the wind seemed to tease what little it could find of Shaw’s bare skin as the hand slipped under her underwear, caressing and scratching just above Shaw’s throbbing labia.

 

“Root I’m driving,” Shaw repeated, louder.

 

“I noticed,” Root mocked behind her. “What’s the matter Shaw? Am I making you lose control?”

 

Shaw wasn’t the one to back down from a challenge, especially when it was issued by Root. She didn’t reply anything but shifted up, the engine loud in the night as she pressed the gas pedal hard. As if rewarding her, the fingers moved lower, the tip caressing the skin just above her clit.

 

“You can’t come,” Root reminded Shaw before she started circling her clitoris, her cold fingers massaging Shaw’s lips in a slow, tempting rhythm not unlike the song Root had danced to only moments before.

 

“I won’t,” Shaw confirmed, although the waves of pleasure tempted her eyes to leave the road. In front of her there was nothing but the highway, and she made her way to it fast, enjoying the wind roughly blowing past them, the lights passing them by so quickly. Under her, the engine obeyed to every one of her commands and she smirked until Root’s fingers scratched at her skin. “Fuck,” she muttered, and imagined Root cackling behind her.

 

Shaw struggled to keep her eyes open, her breath failing her. Looking at the road ahead she sped up instead of slowing, and behind her, she heard a small laugh.

 

“Eager, aren’t you?” Root’s voice came higher than usual, and strained by the wind.

 

Shaw’s bike took a hard turn and their legs almost scraped the pavement. Shaw smirked when Root gasped, her one arm clutching onto her strongly as the hand that has slipped inside her underwear froze.

 

“What’s wrong Root?” Shaw mocked.

 

Root didn’t stop holding on too hard, pushing against Shaw’s ribcage uncomfortably, but the hand in her pants started to move again.

 

“Nothing Sam,” Root spoke a bit louder, and Shaw grinned, even though the movements brought her close to ecstasy again. She drew in a sharp breath as she continued down the highway, grateful that there weren’t a lot of people around. Besides, at the speed she was going, no one could notice Root’s hand between her legs, driving her mad.

 

Shaw reached the hotel in a mixed state of frustration and desire, and barely made it to the door of her room without biting Root’s lips. She pulled Root inside the bedroom, but as soon as they passed the threshold Shaw was pushed against the wall furiously, and the ache still ran down her spine as Root sucked on her pulse point.

 

“I’ve missed you Shaw,” Root whispered as she trekked down Shaw’s neck with warm kisses.

 

“Hungry?” Shaw asked, her stomach knotting at the thought, a familiar burn spreading inside. She pushed Root off her and Root smirked.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Root smiled wickedly, grabbing Shaw by the neck and pulling her roughly. “You’re merely human.”

 

Shaw smirked, slipping her fingers under Root’s blue top and scratching the skin deep enough to draw blood. “You bleed all the same,” she replied before Root leaned down, bringing their lips together almost violently. Sharp teeth cut at the skin and Shaw hissed lightly, her hands running up Root’s back.

 

“You taste so good,” Root whispered against Shaw’s cheek before she licked the few drops of blood she had spilled. “I’ll give you that.”

 

“Oh, we’re into compliments now?” Shaw’s grin deepened, her fingers unclasping Root’s bra effortlessly. She repressed a groan when two firm hands kneaded her ass, urging her closer.

 

Root’s cheek brushed against Shaw’s as her lips reached her ear. “You tell me,” her lower voice sent shivers of expectation down Shaw’s spine. “You did seem to enjoy my dance earlier.”

 

Shaw’s earlobe disappeared between Root’s wet lips and Shaw closed her eyes, savoring the sensation even though her fingers tugged at Root’s top, impatient.

 

“You’re not that bad,” Shaw carelessly replied, and felt Root’s laughter running down her throat.

 

“I can smell your arousal,” Root started pulling apart slightly as her hand snaked its way behind Shaw’s belt and under her pants, fingers teasing over the fabric of her underwear. “You want me.”

 

Shaw smirked. “Or I just need to be fucked, and you happened to be there.”

 

The hand twisted, coming closer to her labia and pushing against the throbbing warmth. “It happens just like that?” Root teased, and Shaw’s breath was cut short when a finger slipped under the fabric, nail raking down her sensitive skin.

 

“What can I say?” Shaw pulled apart slightly, enough to lift Root’s top over her head, throwing it across the room without a second look. “You’ve got good timing.”

 

Root’s grin deepened. “Like that time you were hunting me?” Shaw remembered the delicious sting of that first bite well. “Or do you mean that night in the woods?”

 

Fingers moved against her labia and Shaw felt her resolve weakening as Root pushed her further into the room. “Or that time in the chapel?” Root laughed at that, the muscles of her throat waving deliciously under her skin, and Shaw leaned in to lick and suck at the crook. Root’s second hand left the warmth of Shaw’s lower backside to come to tug at her hair. “Do you remember the chapel?”

 

“I remember you came first,” Shaw grinned, and was rewarded by a sudden cold absence when Root slipped her hand out of Shaw’s pants, stepping back.

 

Root’s wicked eyes gleamed in the dark as she licked her fingers, cleaning up Shaw’s arousal. “Maybe,” she checked out Shaw like she was nothing more than a piece of meat, and something inside Shaw screamed, reminding her that she was just that. Root might have picked up on the sudden alarm because she purred, “but you came four times.”

 

Shaw licked her lips absently, barely noticing that her fingers had started unbuttoning her own blouse. “I thought you weren’t keeping score,” Shaw replied, and Root’s hands returned at Shaw’s belt, quickly undoing her pants.

 

“I lied,” Root winked.

 

As soon as Shaw managed to get rid of her own bra, Root pushed her down on the bed roughly before pulling down the pants and underwear and throwing them aside.

 

“But you,” Root took in the sight of a naked Shaw, lying down before her, and bit on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. “You I could fuck forever.”

 

Before Shaw had time to be queasy about the confession Root grabbed her wrist and pulled her up as if she was nothing but a rag doll. Shaw glared at her, yet her fingers quickly undid Root’s pants, granting her another smirk. “Don’t be so grumpy,” Root opposed, pinching Shaw’s nipple between a thumb and a finger while the other hand strongly grabbed the back of Shaw’s neck. “I’d let you fuck me too.”

 

Despite her better judgement Shaw leaned in, her tongue darting out of her mouth to lick the small cut on Root’s lip. Root moaned against her, the fingers on Shaw’s breast shifting to a warm and firm caress.

 

“Your heart is pumping so fast,” Root whispered and Shaw’s labia suddenly pulsed desperately, throbbing with need. She leaned in to kiss Root roughly, the slickness of her mouth only reminding Shaw of her own. Shaw’s hands urged Root closer, kneading at her hips before she moved to scratch angry red lines of her back. “Say it,” Root begged against Shaw’s demanding lips.

 

Shaw ignored the request for a few seconds, savoring the way Root’s hands roamed her body, nails scraping skin and fingers kneading muscles, carefully avoiding where Shaw wanted to be touched most.

 

“You know already,” Shaw admitted, her eyes closing as her forehead came to rest against the crook of Root’s neck. Her loose hair brushed pleasantly against the tip of Root’s nipples as one of Shaw’s hands ran down Root’s ass, low enough to tease at the sensitive skin at the start of Root’s thigh.

 

“Just say it,” Root insisted, ignoring Shaw’s ministrations and stilling both of her hands on Shaw’s ass, so close to where she wanted to be touched and yet, not quite there.

 

Shaw groaned against Root’s chest. “I want you,” she grumpily stated, pushing her body against Root’s.

 

“Say it again,” Root slipped apart, her fingers rising to cup Shaw’s chin. She forced her to look up. “Say it to me.”

 

Shaw’s loud breathing seemed to be the only sound in the room, and she found she couldn’t ignore her need much longer. “I want you,” Shaw admitted, her eyes locked into Root’s.

 

It seemed to be the proper response, because Root’s smirk widened significantly, and her eyes burnt bright. “On the bed,” she ordered, and Shaw moved almost unwillingly. “On your knees.”

 

As she took place on top of the mattress Shaw lost sight of Root for a moment, only to find her slipping behind her. The sheets were rough against Shaw’s knees as she leaned into Root, feeling the familiar scent of Root wrapping itself around her, her hands immediately finding Root’s thighs and pulling her close.

 

Root’s fingers came to tease her breast once more as another hand ventured down Shaw’s stomach. Melting with want, Shaw’s lungs emptied out the air they contained, refusing to breathe until Root’s palm reached her lower abdomen. Still, Shaw gasped when slender fingers moved against her labia.

 

“You need this,” Root questioned without awaiting an answer, but when Shaw nodded slightly she smiled. “I need this too.”

 

The fingers at Shaw’s breast left her momentarily, coming to move away Shaw’s loose hair, pushing it aside before Root’s tongue explored the skin hungrily. Her hand returned to tease the nipple as Root sucked hard on the crook of Shaw’s neck. On Root’s thighs, Shaw’s fingers dug deep enough to bruise.

 

When teeth bit without breaking the skin Shaw groaned, pushing herself back against Root, one of her hand rising to fist her hair and urge Root on. Shaw could feel Root’s smirk against her neck, yet she tugged harder. The fingers on Shaw’s labia moved up and down in the slowest of rhythms and inside Shaw the desire seemed to pull her apart, violent and relentless in her gut.

 

“Root,” she whispered, and a finger slipped inside her.

 

Shaw grinded her hips against Root’s hand as best she could, her own hands clawing desperately at Root’s hair and thigh. Teeth pushed against her skin until it broke, two shallow cuts at the crook of Shaw’s neck, where Root’s mouth sucked and licked all the same. The sudden sting forced a loud groan out of Shaw and a second finger moved inside her, still painfully slow.

 

There was a little red stream running down Shaw’s skin and Root’s fingers eagerly spread the warm liquid over Shaw’s breasts, her mouth still draining her softly, drinking her blood so slowly Shaw thought Root would never be finished. Shaw barely felt weakened by the loss, only more aroused, and she moaned against her will as Root’s fingertips drew circles and impossible symbols on her skin.

 

“Root,” Shaw insisted, “you know I can take it.”

 

The lips at Shaw’s neck pulled apart momentarily. “You’re always in such a rush,” Root mocked, although her low voice betrayed her own arousal. Root fisted Shaw’s hair to pull her head aside roughly, forcing her to turn around as Root leaned in to kiss her. When Shaw tasted her blood on Root’s lips a third finger rushed inside her, working in and out of her more rapidly. With the sudden change of rhythm Shaw’s orgasm only built up, threatening to overcome her as Shaw moaned, the sound muffled by Root’s mouth on hers.

 

Root broke the kiss as quickly as she had initiated it, angling Shaw’s head towards the side as to further expose her neck. She brought her mouth back to the two cuts she had made, her teeth angrily biting once more, deepening the wounds. Shaw’s breath became erratic as Root sucked hard, feeding impatiently while her fingers continued to fuck Shaw roughly. Root felt Shaw’s muscles tightening, the nails digging in her thigh breaking the skin even as her scalp fired with pain, Shaw’s hand roughly tugging at her hair.

 

Shaw felt the energy building up inside her, a wave of pleasure ready to roll over her even as the loss of blood weakened her muscles. Her orgasm hit her suddenly, and as she cried out Root’s name the fingers inside her pushed deeper, Root’s wrist brushing against Shaw’s clit as she moved. Shaw grinded feverishly against Root’s hand, riding out her orgasm while Root moaned loudly, with her tongue still running over the cuts on Shaw’s neck.

 

When she slipped her fingers out of Shaw Root brought them to her lips, licking them clean as her other hand snaked around Shaw’s stomach, holding her close. On Root’s tongue Shaw’s wetness mixed with her blood and Root moaned lightly, moving from her own fingers back to Shaw’s neck.

 

“You taste so fucking good,” she whispered in Shaw’s ear, and Shaw leaned back into her, the hand on Root’s thigh relaxing as the other, still wrapped in Root’s hair, pulled her close. When Shaw’s lips met Root’s again she could taste her arousal there, mixed with the iron of her blood, yet she couldn’t understand what Root loved about that. It seemed almost vulgar to her, more than anything, but there was a glow in the back of Root’s eyes that made it worth it.

 

Shaw pulled apart to turn around, her muscles complaining with the effort as her hand moved to her neck, feeling the two holes Root had dig there.

 

“It’s barely bleeding anymore,” Root reassured her, bringing her thumb to caress the wounds almost lovingly. Shaw flinched.

 

“I need to shower,” she replied, looking down at her chest. There, she found her own blood slowly drying up, shallow smudges and long smeared lines running across her breasts.

 

Shaw left the bed without another word, ignoring the ache in her muscles and the lightheaded feeling that warned her she could lose consciousness at any moment. She turned on the bathroom lights and turned to look at Root, still kneeling on the bed, sitting back on her ankles as if uncertain of what she had done wrong now.

 

“Are you coming?” Shaw asked, yet didn’t wait for an answer.

 

She was already under the hot water when Root finally joined her, her usual smirk back on her face. Shaw grinned, pulling her close and bringing their lips together. If Shaw leaned into Root slightly to keep her balance, Root didn’t seem to notice. When Shaw finally stepped back again Root’s gaze fell on her, eyes fascinated by the drops of water running down Shaw’s naked skin, the blood quickly fading away. Root’s fingertips traced the few lines she could still see and Shaw pushed her against the wall.

 

Root’s hands came to rest at Shaw’s hips, almost holding her up as Shaw leaned to suck at her breast. Root pulled her closer, the back of her head hitting the shower wall almost painfully as she closed her eyes. Shaw’s teeth teased and bit, one hand running down Root’s stomach to find her labia warm and wet.

 

“I’m guessing you do want me too,” Shaw mocked, and Root opened her eyes once again.

 

“I really do,” she smirked, one hand rising to snake its way to the back of Shaw’s neck. “But even more when you’re on your knees.”

 

Even if Shaw had been at her full strength, she wouldn’t have been able to object to Root’s desire for very long. Still, she made a show of ignoring Root’s insistence, kneading one breast as her mouth sucked and licked the other. When Root moaned Shaw’s name quietly, she stopped resisting, kissing and biting her way down Root’s stomach.

 

After she had left a few marks Shaw finally kneeled, her hands roaming Root’s thighs as she felt water trickling down on her back. She looked up to see a flushed Root with her eyes closed, and Shaw smiled before she returned her attention to Root’s arousal. Shaw’s breath reached Root’s throbbing labia and Root flinched, the hand she had laid on Shaw’s head urging her forward.

 

Shaw complied, her tongue darting out and licking at the skin, teasing.

 

Root groaned. “Shaw,” she insisted, “don’t be like that.”

 

Grinning, Shaw’s hand came to rest at Root’s inner thigh, drawing circles with her thumb. “Like what?”

 

Root’s hips bucked, yet it didn’t provide her more contact. Shaw placed a soft kiss on her engorged clit and Root complained. “Don’t tease,” she begged.

 

“Who’s eager now?” Shaw mocked, yet the fingers in her hair pulled roughly, bringing Shaw more pain. The water in her eyes blurred her vision and for a second the heat in the bathroom seemed overbearing. She swallowed hardly.

 

“I need you,” Root whispered, releasing her strong hold on Shaw’s hair, for which Shaw was thankful. She had no doubt that Root was urging her on because she had fed from Shaw more than she usually did, but Shaw was glad that Root didn’t voice her worry.

 

She settled closer to Root, one hand spreading her folds as the other pushed Root’s leg over her shoulder. Shaw then used one hand to help stabilise Root even though she knew Root didn’t necessarily need it.

 

Shaw’s tongue licked Root’s labia patiently, enjoying the feeling of Root’s arousal filling her mouth. She moved her thumb to caress Root’s entrance, not slipping a finger in yet, and felt Root’s hips swaying slowly.

 

“Shaw,” Root insisted again, one hand clutching on the shower wall, the other still buried in Shaw’s hair. “Come inside me.”

 

Shaw felt her own arousal returning, but she ignored it as she slipped one finger inside Root. Root grinded against her hand and Shaw returned her lips to her labia before her tongue darting out to circle Root’s clit once again. She added a second finger when Root started muttering nonsense, her wrist painfully twisting as she fucked her. Root’s hand urged her closer and Shaw sucked on her clit, her other fingers digging into her waist, keeping her in place.

 

Root’s whimpers barely reached Shaw under the sound of the water falling down the shower, but some words she recognised; her own name, and then _yes_ , and a few  _more_. Shaw augmented the pace of her rhythm within Root, feeling the muscles tightening against her, and continued to suck and lick her clit as Root cried out, her fingers fisting Shaw’s hair roughly. Root came quickly as soon as Shaw bit down her inner thigh hard, leaving a mark that would surely bruise.

 

When Shaw returned to her feet, Root pulled her close, kissing her lazily. She moved her lips down Shaw’s neck, liking at the small wounds her teeth had made even though there was barely any blood left. Shaw leaned on her, eyes closing at the remembrance of the intense sensation of having Root draining her and filling her at the same time.

 

“You need to rest,” Root opposed, as if she could hear Shaw’s train of thought.

 

Shaw smirked. “We both know there are many things we could do in that bed,” she pulled apart. “Sleeping isn’t one of them.”

 

Root’s eyes went from the wounds to Shaw’s eyes worriedly.

 

“You just have to fuck me without feeding,” Shaw smiled, stepping out of her shower and grabbing a towel. She dried her body quickly before she focused on her hair, one hand shoving her locks to one side. Shaw caught Root biting down her own lip, eyes staring hungrily at her bare neck. “Am I making you lose control?” Shaw mocked.

 

Root glared. “Made you come four times, at the chapel,” she reminded Shaw, finally grabbing the second towel.

 

Shaw smirked as she eyed Root’s naked body, the mark on her inner thigh already starting to color. “Five times, the night of the thunderstorm,” Shaw winked.

 

Root frowned. “The fifth one didn’t count.”

 

“It did,” Shaw laughed, throwing her towel in the sink before she walked out of the bathroom.

 

“I barely felt it,” Root complained, following Shaw into the bedroom.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “You cried out my name so loud my neighbors came knocking.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Root remembered, a grin coming up her face. “Well maybe I should even the score, then.”

 

“Yeah, maybe you should.”


	2. Wedding Traditions [T]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two miserable strangers meeting at a wedding AU. T-rated.
> 
> Written for karastantons.

Shaw really didn’t see the point, but as her brother and her mother often told her, she rarely did. She couldn’t see any advantage in disappointing them both, though, and as she had done with so many important events over the course of the years, she showed up anyway, wearing a brand new dress and her best faked smile.

 

 _The things you do for family_ , she thought as she repressed a sigh.

 

It was the strangest crowd of nerds, firemen and old family members, and it did not mix well at all. She had her fun noticing how the aunts avoided the guys from the station chugging beer, how the geeks flinched every time someone over forty passed by their tables, striking conversations about tech they had never understood and asking the worst questions about social media.

 

At times, she glanced at the happy couple, her tall and dark foster brother smiling softly at his short and awkward fiancé – husband, now – and didn’t get it, but thought it was for the best. John and Harold had been together for years now, and she had given up on understanding how the relationship even worked. It did, and that was enough.

 

When the third sleazy stranger approached her to ask for a dance, Shaw wished she could just ignore or punch him, but instead replied with a short and brusque “I don’t dance.” She avoided his pitied look by staring at her watch and wondering, for the hundredth time, why the buffet hadn’t arrived yet. She was starving and bored, her dress was getting itchy and she could not bear one more dumb conversation.

 

At the other end of the room, she noticed the same guy hitting on another girl, a tall brunette who looked like she didn’t belong into any group. The expression on her face changed in the fraction of a second, from bored to strangely joyful, and Sameen fully expected her to join the man on the dance floor. When the woman’s drink splashed on the guy’s face, she didn’t know who was more surprised; the dripping wet guy or herself.

 

“Sam, what the hell?”

 

Shaw turned around, immediately reacting at the familiar sound of her name spoken angrily by her brother’s voice, but she realised he wasn’t talking to him. John had crossed the room as he scolded the woman and she couldn’t hear what he was saying anymore. Yet she stared, entertained as the brunette – another Sam – changed her features to a more contrite look that could’ve fooled a lot of people, but not the Shaws.

 

With a peeked interest, Sameen left the solitude of her seat and walked up to her brother as he made his way through the crowd, returning to Harold’s side.

 

“Who’s that girl?” she asked as soon as she managed to reach him, glancing towards the brunette.

 

An angry John spared the girl one last look before he focused on his sister. “One of Harold’s colleagues,” he explained, his traits softening slightly when he spoke his husband’s name. “I don’t know why he invited her, he doesn’t even like her. No one does.”

 

Shaw thought she preferred people no one else liked. Her only friend at the station – if she didn’t count John – was Cole, and everyone there disliked him. They thought him too frail to do the job, too nerdy to be a fireman. They had thought the same of her when she had arrived, and it wasn’t until she had saved their sergeant, Hersh, from a collapsing building that they realized she wasn’t that bad; not that she had wanted to make friends with them anyway.

 

“She tell you why she threw her drink in that guy’s face?” Sameen asked with a curious smile.

 

“She said she wanted to see how he’d react,” John replied, his annoyance obvious.

 

Some distant cousin arrived to congratulate him then, and Shaw quickly left him, ignoring John’s desperate looks that begged for her to stay.

 

She walked over to the bar quickly, ordering a whiskey and a Daiquiri. The barman squinted at her for a second; she had been alone all evening, drinking only whiskeys, but he completed her order without a word anyway. She had just finished paying for the drinks when the brunette from before arrived at her side. Before she could order, Shaw offered her the Daiquiri.

 

“Thanks,” the woman looked pleasantly surprised.

 

“I saw you throw one in a guy’s face,” Shaw raised her glass. “Thought I’d thank you for the entertainment.”

 

They looked in each other’s eyes as they clunk their glasses together and sipped their drinks.

 

“It was my pleasure, really,” the brunette smiled, extending her hand. “My name’s Root.”

 

Shaw frowned, but shook the hand nonetheless. “I thought I heard my brother call you Sam.”

 

Root drank another sip of her Daiquiri, walking away from the bar and back to a more quiet part of the room, and Sameen absently followed.

 

“I have many names,” she spoke with a low voice and winked. “You’re Sameen, right?”

 

Shaw wondered how her name sounded so much better when it came out from that ridiculous mouth. She nodded.

 

“Aren’t you a bit short to be a firewoman?” the brunette asked with a teasing smirk.

 

“No,” Sameen protested, red rising to her cheeks – from the alcohol, she thought, and the fact that she hadn’t eaten in hours.

 

Root leaned in, “I’m not saying it’s a flaw,” she almost purrs the words out of her mouth, “it’s really impressive.”

 

Shaw swallowed hard, trying to hold onto her anger but finding it impossible. “Impressive?”

 

“You must be in good shape,” the brunette continued, ignoring Sameen’s question. “And strong too.”

 

There was something in that woman’s eyes, as she glanced at the muscles in her arm that made Shaw want to push her up against the wall and show her just what she could do with those. She didn’t, though, not so much because they were in a sea of distant relatives and nosy colleagues, but because Harold’s voice had just came through the speakers.

 

“I want to thank you all for being here tonight,” he started, and Shaw took her eyes off Root to move them to him, as the rest of the crowd had done. “It’s a really special night for John and I, and we’re glad to be sharing this moment with you.”

 

Sameen smirked; she had been to enough family dinners to know that neither John nor Harold truly wanted the whole ceremony-reception thing, but her mother had insisted and they had caved. And now they were forced to thank everyone of them, even though they would much rather be left alone, and she thought maybe she hadn’t pulled the shortest straw after all; maybe Harold and John’s evening were actually worse than hers.

 

When the speech ended she clapped her hands along with the others, but noticed Root wasn’t standing beside her anymore. She looked around quickly, trying to be subtle as she browsed the crowd, but couldn’t find her anywhere. Waiters started setting up the buffet and she tried to forget all about her.

 

Her brother had set her up at a nerd’s table and she wondered if he was pissed at her, the day they had settled on who would sit where. When the two guys on both of her sides introduced themselves, she realized it had been her mother’s doing. Another hopeless try of getting her into a relationship. She glared at her plate, wondering if eating was worth all the trouble, and then made a decision.

 

Without a word, she grabbed her dinner and left, efficiently making her way through the crowd until she reached the exit door. There, she was greeted by a group of smokers who checked her out without any subtlety and she rolled her eyes.

 

“Sameen!” she heard her name coming from her left, and she smirked when she recognized the voice.

 

Cross-legged with her back against the building’s brick wall, the brunette carelessly sat in the grass, her dress pulled up to her knees and her plate resting on her lap. She grinned when Shaw joined her.

 

“I can’t stand boring people,” the brunette explained after a few minutes of eating in silence. When Sameen didn’t answer anything, she continued; “I don’t think you’re boring.”

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow, but Root didn’t expand her thoughts on that. Around them, the night had settled, quiet and cold, but the light and sounds from the party inside still reached them through the windows like white noise. When Sameen finished her dinner, she noticed the brunette was staring with a strange spark in her eyes.

 

“Wanna get out of here?” she suggested, and the way she bit on her lower lip spoke volumes.

 

“You sure?” Shaw asked. She thought she could hear Cole’s voice then, scolding her for all her one night stands and the broken hearts she left in her wake. Somehow, she felt this woman wasn’t the same, but there was no way to tell, really.

 

“Well it’s a wedding tradition,” Root spoke again, and found Sameen’s traits even more confused.

 

She set her plate aside and moved, kneeling beside Shaw, sitting on her ankles. “The best man is supposed to have sex with someone on the wedding night, I think.” Root ran her fingers in Shaw’s hair and smirked. “Something about good luck.”

 

“I don’t believe in stuff like that,” Sameen replied.

 

“Me neither,” the brunette leaned in, “but better safe than sorry, right?”

 

Shaw wasn’t sure, but when Root’s lips crashed against hers, she agreed wholeheartedly.


	3. Be Good to Me [M]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of them getting the other off drugs AU. Trigger warning for drug abuse. This was posted in three parts; I added them all in one chapter here. Very angsty, rated M.
> 
> Written for kesdax.

“Fuck you,” Sameen hissed as she pushed Root off her.

 

“That’s all I’m asking,” she whispered, crashing her body into Sam’s once again and kissing the base of her neck.

 

Shaw felt the familiar arousal rising inside of her as Root’s hands roamed her skin, ignoring her clothes like they weren’t there at all. It took all her strength to push her away again.

 

“Not when you’re like this,” she firmly replied, and the coldness in her voice seemed to stop the brunette – at least for a second.

 

“Like what?” she asked innocently, despite her dilated pupils and the way she moaned at every movement, sensitive skin welcoming any touch.

 

Sameen closed her fists, thinking of how she had come home that way, all trusting and naive and high, so high, and she clenched her jaw imagining all the horrible things that could’ve happened and that hopefully hadn’t.

 

“Are you kidding me?” she spoke, but it was almost a scream already. “You’re fucking high, Root. Again.”

 

The hacker smiled. “Only a little bit,” she had the softest of voice and it only drove Sameen mad.

 

“You told me you’d stop doing that shit.”

 

Water welled up in Root’s eyes. “It’s just to take the edge off,” she repeated for the thousandth time, and Sameen didn’t know what edge she could possibly be talking about, because the hacker never discussed her job, her missions, and Shaw never knew what to expect. Bruises, cuts, gunshot wounds, she could deal, but when Root came back like this… She didn’t want to know what made Root come back like this.

 

“You promised,” Sameen reminded her, taking another step back, and the hacker looked so terrified and alone.

 

“I did, but it was just this once,” the brunette rushed, avoiding Shaw’s stare.

 

“It’s always just this once, Root,” and Shaw left her alone in the living room, knowing there would be no reasoning with her. Knowing it would be better for both of them if she just gave up trying.

 

Root followed her. “Why would you care anyway?”

 

Sameen didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

 

“If you don’t care then,” she had snaked her arms around her waist again, and Shaw closed her eyes, feeling the hacker’s warmth surrounding her from behind, “why don’t you want to fuck me?”

 

She swallowed hard before she answered with a bitter voice; “what, you think you’re any good when you’re like this?”

 

It was a low blow and she knew she shouldn’t have said it. She knew very well why she was angry, why she wanted Root to stop risking her health and her life, but she couldn’t get herself to find the words. Had never told anything like it to anyone, really.

 

Root’s body had frozen against her, immobile but not pulling apart. Shaw waited for an angry comeback that never came. Instead, she heard the quietest voice in her ear; “I need you Shaw.”

 

She turned around then, and didn’t push the hacker away when she desperately kissed her. “I need you,” she repeated against her lips, running a hand down Sameen’s body. “You’re so good to me.”

 

Shaw felt a current like electricity rushing through her as Root started grinding on her thigh, and held her balance by leaning onto the kitchen counter behind her.

 

“I’m not good to anyone,” Sameen objected, but found herself pulling Root closer anyhow.

 

The hacker moaned when the agent’s hands urged her on. “No, you’re good to me,” she repeated, and it sounded like a promise, but Shaw knew what Root’s promises were made of. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to learn.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Shaw’s breath still smelled like whiskey despite her having stopped drinking for more than half an hour now. She had set the bottle aside when Root showed up, knowing better than to let her guard down when Root was intoxicated, and tonight, she was particularly high. All teeth and smiles she moved on the couch like a cat and Shaw found herself more intrigued than angry, which was quite rare these days.

 

“You should try it with me sometime,” Root purred, head falling on the couch’s backrest. She had a soft smile and big eyes and Shaw wanted nothing but to wipe it away.

 

“I’m not putting that shit inside me,” Shaw snarled, yet didn’t move away from the couch. Root smiled and dragged herself closer, a hand settling on Shaw’s thigh, slender fingers running under the fabric of her boxers.

 

Root’s breaths deepened “not even once?” as she ran the tip of her nose on Shaw’s cheek and smirked when she noticed Shaw inhaling sharply. “At least get drunk a bit, Sameen.”

 

She shoved the bottle of whiskey in Shaw’s hand and for the third time Shaw pushed it away.

 

“That’s not a good idea and you know it,” she replied. Root still had the scar under her eye from where Shaw had punched her the last time she had gotten drunk and got into a fight with her, and she didn’t like to think of it one bit. Didn’t like to think of what she could do to Root, if she allowed that anger to roll out of her like it threatened every time she had a drink or two.

 

“You’re no fun when you’re all serious like this,” Root complained, moving to sit on Shaw’s lap. She pouted until Shaw’s hands moved to her ass and then she grinned. “That’s more like it.”

 

Shaw raised one hand to Root’s collarbone, her fingers running up to Root’s neck and bringing her close. “I really wish you’d stop doing that,” she said and Root averted her eyes.

 

“Let’s just have fun, Sam,” she tried again, kissing Shaw lightly before she bucked her hips, grinding on Shaw’s lap. It elicited a slight groan from under her and she smiled. “You remember how to have fun, right?”

 

“Do you?” Shaw retorted angrily, and Root sighed.

 

“Fine, if you don’t want to play I’ll find someone else,” Root replied, annoyed, and left the couch in one movement. She walked up to the door as quickly as she could manage, hoping that she could make it out the apartment without Shaw noticing the tears that had gathered in her eyes.

 

Before her hand had even reached the doorknob she found herself pushed roughly against it, back hitting the surface hard. She gasped in pain and surprise, but the sound disappeared into Shaw as she kissed her hungrily. Root moved to distance herself from the door and closer to Shaw, but was pushed again, as violently as the first time.

 

Shaw’s fingers toyed with her belt buckle, quickly undoing her pants and Root moaned lightly.

 

“You’re so warm,” Root smiled lazily and Shaw ranked her nails down her lower back as she moved in to suck Root’s pulse point. Root moved more quickly, bringing her lips at the base of Shaw’s neck and biting hard. As Root’s teeth sank into her Shaw groaned, one hand rising to tug at Root’s hair, pulling her aside roughly. Root gasped in surprised and then smirked. “Burning hot.”

 

Shaw purposefully ignored her and pulled down Root’s pants in one quick movement, dragging her underwear along. Before Root had time to stop her Shaw kneeled in front of her, hands running down the back of Root’s legs.  She placed warm kisses in the interior of her thighs and Root shivered, hands clutching at the door for support.

 

“Sam,” she begged, but Shaw wasn’t sure if it was for her to stop or continue. She placed another kiss and then bit the skin, and found Root’s hand wrapped in her hair, pulling her closer. “Are you…?”

 

She didn’t finish her question and Shaw didn’t bother asking her what she meant. Instead, she ran the tip of her tongue on Root’s labia, teasing, and Root moaned. Shaw raised one hand to help Root keep her balance before she started kissing, licking and biting at the tender skin and Root became louder, nonsense spilling out of her as she revelled in the sensation.

 

“Shaw, this…” she was having trouble speaking, like she couldn’t find the words, “this is too much.”

 

Shaw stopped then, and angry eyes met Root’s when she returned to her feet.

 

“No,” her voice was strangely cold as she pulled Root’s arm and dragged her to the couch, pushing her down on it. “ _This_  is too much,” she replied, returning her face to the crook of Root’s legs. Root moved to allow her in and returned her hand to her hair despite her previous objections.

 

“It has to hurt,” she whispered between breaths, “that’s the whole point.”

 

Shaw had known that for a while now, but tonight, she wanted to forget all about it. She sucked on Root’s clit gently and ran her warm hands over her and Root cried out her name as she moved her hips against Shaw’s face roughly, and when Shaw moved to kiss her Root frowned.

 

“Why are you being like this?” she asked, panting.

 

“You’re the one who said I was warm.”

 

Root captured her lips in another kiss, gnawing at the lower lip gently.

 

“Burning hot,” Root repeated, and Shaw fucked her a bit more roughly after that, yet taking her time, tiring the muscles and draining Root from all that she had.

 

Once she was done, Root pulled at Shaw’s clothes to bring her closer, and as she closed her eyes, peacefully falling asleep, she half-whispered, half-begged, “I’m cold now, Sam.”

 

Shaw didn’t reply anything, the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she placed a soft kiss on Root’s forehead and left her on the couch, taking the whiskey back to her bedroom.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I’m serious,” Shaw groaned, back hitting hard against the counter as Root only smirked.

 

“You’re always serious Sameen,” she whispered in her ear before she sucked on Shaw’s pulse point, her fingers struggling with the belt. She pulled apart for a moment and her dilated pupils studied Shaw’s expression. Anger mixed with lust, she recognized well, and something else too, something she didn’t like naming. “Do you like my dress?”

 

She smirked, leaving Shaw’s embrace although she held onto one hand, turning around under it as if dancing to no music. Shaw tugged her close, kissing her hard until Root stepped back again. “I’m not wearing it for you,” she added, and although she meant to tease it sounded only sad.

 

“Would you like me to wear one for you?” Root asked as she left the room, knowing Shaw would follow. It took two seconds more than she had anticipated, but when Shaw entered the bedroom Root smirked.

 

“No,” Shaw groaned before she unzipped the dress, but Root held up the fabric.

 

“Are you sure?” she questioned again, although a bit more awkwardly.

 

Shaw frowned, and noticed a slight hesitation on Root’s traits. She pulled down the dress harshly even though Root desperately held onto it, and revealed bruises all over her ribs. Shaw brushed her fingers against it, listening closely as Root hissed.

 

“Trouble at work?” Shaw asked, but from the way Root had tried to hide them, she wasn’t sure.

 

“I’m fine,” Root replied with a smile, evidently fake, which Shaw chose to ignore. She pushed her down on the bed instead before taking off her shirt and pants. From the way Root moaned lightly when she straddled her, licking her lips and closing her eyes, Shaw remembered the dilated pupils and frowned.

 

“What did you take?” Shaw asked, freezing over Root. When Root didn’t answer, she started to move away, but was stopped by a warm hand on her thigh.

 

“Don’t,” Root insisted, another hand snaking its way up to Shaw’s neck and pulling her down. Shaw’s body fell hard against her and Root hissed, eyes welling up with water from the sudden pain, but she pretended it was nothing as she started kissing down Shaw’s collarbone again.

 

Shaw closed her eyes momentarily, enjoying the touch, yet pushed Root away. “Just tell me what you took,” she questioned again and Root breathed in sharply when fingers dug hard into her stomach over her bruises.

 

“Shaw,” Root begged, pain seemingly running up her spine, “just play nice.”

 

The pressure lifted slightly, enough for Root to breathe more normally, although Shaw kept her hand there. The other grabbed Root’s long curls and pulled her up. “Why don’t  _you_  play nice?”

 

The taunt was obvious yet Root fell for it; she kissed Shaw hard, biting her lower lip until she drew blood. “Just fuck me,” she whispered, and received a groan of appreciation when she ran two fingers over Shaw’s underwear.

 

Root felt strong fingers pressing down on her bruises again and cried out. “Stop that,” she pleaded, but Shaw continued harder.

 

“Why don’t you do something about it?” Shaw taunted wickedly, and Root tried to move away but she couldn’t. No matter how much she squirmed and pushed, Shaw remained on top of her, immobile and cold, and Root felt the air leaving her lungs as she panicked.

 

“Shaw please just stop,” Root asked again, another sob rushing painfully through her. Shaw released the pressure then, and bent down to kiss where she had just pushed. The touch of her lips on Root’s bruises created another wave of pain along Root’s nerves, yet Root relaxed slightly.

 

Breath warm against Root’s stomach, Shaw flinched. “You can’t do your job when you’re like this,” she kissed Root’s skin again, and again, making her way up as her hands slipped under Root, knuckles running down muscles uncomfortably as she tried to undo her bra. Root encircled Shaw’s neck then and Shaw immediately pulled her up, biting the base of her neck ever so slightly.

 

“I’m not working now,” Root argued in a whisper, shivering when the bra left her skin. Shaw’s hands ran down her shoulders, warming her up before she pushed her down again.

 

“You’re never safe Root,” Shaw replied, and although she tried to hide her worry Root could see it all over her face. She sighed and tried to move away, but Shaw kept her in place. “Do you hear me?”

 

There was something threatening in her voice and Root grinned. “Are you my enemy now, Shaw?”

 

Her tone was mocking, and yet there was fear lurking behind her words, and she swallowed hard when cold eyes met hers.

 

“I could kill you in a heartbeat,” Shaw started, one hand kneading Root’s breast as she other trailed down her thighs. “You know that?”

 

Root moaned against her, pulling her closer as her hands roamed Shaw’s body, fingers scratching and caressing all the same.

 

“Yes,” she whispered as she closed her eyes. “But you’re good to me.”

 

Shaw pressed two fingers against Root’s labia, rough and demanding. “So good,” Root repeated, hips grinding against Shaw’s hand.

 

“I told you I can’t help you,” Shaw repeated angrily, and Root sighed, fluttering her eyes open. She blinked a few times, taking in Shaw’s serious expression, and then smiled.

 

“Shaw,” Root’s dilated pupils made her look lost. “I’m safe here,” she said, but it sounded dangerously like a question.

 

Shaw shook her head, but the fingers on her labia moved ever so slightly and she breathed out Root’s name like a plea.

 

“Tell me I’m safe,” Root insisted as she slipped the tip of her fingers under Shaw’s underwear.

 

Shaw grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand against her labia, bending down to suck and bite Root’s nipple as she grinded against her. “You’ll take care of me,” Root cried out when Shaw shoved two fingers inside her, the fabric of her underwear digging in her skin as she moved into the rhythm.

 

“Shut up Root,” Shaw ordered her and Root nodded, closing her eyes as she fisted the sheets under her with one hand, the other moving in and out of Shaw as hard as she could manage. The muscles in her arms tired but she continued, wincing slightly when Shaw pulled apart.

 

Still straddling Root, Shaw’s hand turned into a fist as the other fingered Root relentlessly, moving apart to kneel on the bed above Root, so only their thighs touched. She looked as shivers ran over Root’s skin, Root biting down her lips hard enough that the skin turned white.

 

“Could you…” Root started asking, but was cut short when Shaw grabbed her wrist, forcing Root’s fingers out of her.

 

Forcefully, Shaw pulled out of Root as well before she turned her over. Root tried to move but Shaw pressed her down on the mattress, her face smothered by the pillow. She felt fingers running down her labia and then entering her and Root groaned, both hands holding on to the sheets as she tried to buck her hips against Shaw.

 

“I can’t keep you safe,” Shaw whispered in Root’s ear when she was close, the warmth of her chest comforting Root’s cold back. Root cried out then and moved even more roughly against Shaw. “I can’t save you.”

 

“Shaw,” Root’s moans filled the space and Shaw felt like she couldn’t breathe, “please just lie to me.”

 

Shaw closed her eyes as she moved closer to Root, her breasts caressing her scapula. She added one finger and placed a gentle kiss at the base of Root’s neck.

 

“You can come now Root,” Shaw whispered. “I love you.”


	4. All of Time and Space [T]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Who Au with Doctor!Root. Rated T.
> 
> Written for rinleonhart.

“I think I need someone with your skills,” the brunette flirted, and for the first time in her life Shaw had no idea what to reply to that.

 

Maybe it was the surprise of having a phone booth crashing through her living room window and landing –  _landing_  – on her TV, or maybe it was because the woman that had appeared from within said booth had been talking for five minutes now about aliens and spaceship and time travel, and Shaw didn’t know what skills she had that could possibly ever be useful in a science-fiction movie.

 

“I mean, you can see how dangerous my life can get,” she joked as if they were old friends, and suddenly Sameen realized she was still sitting on her couch, a bowl of cereal in her lap, in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. “So, what do you say?”

 

The agent blinked a few times, set aside the bowl and looked up. “What the hell?”

 

She was about to stand when the brunette rushed to her, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her from moving. “There’s broken glass all over,” she explained. “Where’s your broom?”

 

Sameen vaguely pointed towards the kitchen, confused, and the brunette disappeared. She brushed her hands against her eyes and then pinched her upper arm – she always thought it was ridiculous when she saw someone doing it in a movie, but really, now, it seemed like her best option. Across the room, the blue police phone booth just sat there, as if staring at her, and she frowned.

 

She heard various doors opening and closing, and jumped from the couch to the farthest corner of her living room to avoid walking on broken glass. Instincts finally kicking in, she grabbed the gun she hid under the couch’s side table before she quickly made her way to the kitchen, where she found the stranger going through her cabinets.

 

“What the fuck is happening?” she questioned, muzzle pointed at the brunette.

 

“Oh, there’s no need for that Sameen,” the woman replied with a smile, scolding her lightly with the voice of a disapproving parent. Shaw only tightened her grasp around her revolver. “We are going to have so much fun together!”

 

Shaw took in the chaos that had become of her kitchen and it reminded her of the damage in her living room.

 

“No, we’re not,” she replied, taking one step forward. “You’re going to tell me what the hell is going on, or I’m going to shoot you dead.”

 

The strange brunette grinned. “If you kill me then how will you know what’s going on?”

 

The agent sighed loudly. “Okay, I’ll just shoot your kneecaps. You’ll see; hurts like bitch.”

 

“Oh, I know,” the woman flinched. “This one time on Algol I had the worst misunderstanding with a Sontaran – oh you’d love the Sontarans, really.”

 

She walked out of the kitchen like she had forgotten something in the other room, and her shoulder hit Sameen’s on the way as she brushed by the gun without any sign of nervousness or fear. The agent frowned again and followed.

 

“What’s a Sontaran?”

 

In the living room, the woman had opened the door of the blue box and smoke came out of it in waves. “That’s not good,” she repeated once or twice before she turned around like she had just remembered she wasn’t alone. “I can totally fix it though. Give me minute.”

 

She disappeared into the booth, but before the door closed behind her, Sameen noticed the inside looked like nothing she had ever seen before. For one thing, it looked impossibly bigger than it should have been.

 

She stood there in silence for a few minutes, her eyes gazing from the box to the broken down window, from the gun in her hand to the mess in her kitchen. Finally, the door opened again, and this time no smoke came out; only the brunette, smiling widely, and holding some sort of strange, lightened up device.

 

“Oh, you should really change,” the woman suggested. “It’s cold on the Ood-Sphere these days.”

 

The agent blinked again, and then lifted her gun.

 

“This again?” the brunette smirked. “Sameen, you’ll have to trust me eventually.”

 

This time, Shaw made sure she blocked the only way out of the room – short of the window – so that the stranger couldn’t bolt out again.

 

“You want to tell me what this is?”

 

She wasn’t indicating anything in particular, as she would truly welcome any answer regarding the blue box, the device in the woman’s hand, the complete destruction of her window or the brunette’s presence in her living room.

 

“Like I said,” the woman smiled, “I’m the Doctor.”

 

The agent laughed bitterly. “I don’t think so.”

 

“Because you were one?” the brunette asked, and Shaw felt her grip on her gun tightening.

 

“What’s in your hand?” she waved her weapon at the strange-looking device.

 

“My sonic screwdriver,” the Doctor smiled, looking at it fondly. “I should name it, shouldn’t I? People name things they like.”

 

Shaw took one step forward. “What’s a sonic screwdriver?”

 

The brunette didn’t answer, but she extended her hand, offering it like it was the most precious thing in the world. “It’s not a weapon,” she replied with a soft voice, “well, it doesn’t have to be.”

 

Sameen didn’t move, and so the woman dropped her hand.

 

“Do you want to travel with me?” the Doctor asked, and Shaw laughed.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” she let her arm fall down her side, gun tapping against her thigh lightly.

 

“I think you’d like it,” she smiled. “All of time and space.”

 

Shaw found herself looking past the woman and into the booth, which seemed like its door opened on an entirely new room, enormous with blinking lights and strange-looking boards she could only associate with computers.

 

“It’s my TARDIS,” the brunette winked. “She’s kind of a nice ride.”

 

Sameen stepped forward, peeking in.

 

“I named her the Machine,” the strange woman confessed. “I don’t know if she likes it, she won’t say.”

 

The agent raised an eyebrow, walking around the booth with her hand brushing on its blue panels. It was solid and vibrant, kind of warm too, and she wondered for the hundredth time in the span of fifteen minutes if she had gone entirely crazy.

 

“Be careful of the glass,” the voice came from inside the box, and it took her a moment to realize that the Doctor – whatever her name was – had stepped inside.

 

She followed, her eyes taking in the wide view of an impossible room.

 

“I’m hallucinating,” she spoke, suddenly checking her pulse as if it would indicate anything.

 

“You’re not,” the Doctor replied with a smile. “But you should really change before we go.”

 

Shaw frowned. “Go where?”

 

The brunette ran one finger on what Sameen could only think of as the computer’s core. “Where do you want to go?”

 

The agent replayed everything the other woman had told her in the last few minutes and tried; “the Ood-Sphere?”

 

“Excellent choice,” the brunette replied and the door of the phone booth closed. Sameen spared it one look before she turned towards the Doctor.

 

“I’m not hallucinating,” she repeated.

 

She heard the weirdest of sounds, coming and leaving like the strangest buzzing in her ear and the Doctor seemed to revel into it.

 

“And you should really change”

 

Sameen looked down to her boxers and her gun, and then up again.

 

“All of time and space?”

 

The Doctor grinned. “You’re gonna love it.”


	5. How to Talk (to You) [T]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meeting in prison AU. Rated T.
> 
> Written for samsgroves.

She doesn’t really talk to people; she never really did on the outside, so she keeps to herself all the same in prison. She spends her day organizing the library with the Dewey decimal classification, despite her objections with it; she has quickly learned that, as an inmate, she doesn’t really have a say in it. She bides her time and obeys, counting down the number of months, weeks, days, hours before she gets to leave, never breaking down, never falling apart. She’s patient enough.

 

During winter it is easier to avoid the others. Often, snowstorms keep the inmates inside, and she asks to be sent to the library instead of the gym, and it works. She hides amongst the books and nobody bothers her. There were a few that tried, when she arrived. She dealt with them as coldly as she would have if she had been outside, free, and they never talk to her again. She knows her way around words, knows how to disarm someone in three sentences. Knows how to get them to fight for her even better, and she managed to get a few allies amongst both inmates and guards. She doesn’t ask for much, doesn’t push it – not like she would if she was a free woman, if she wasn’t property of the state.

 

When summer comes for many it is liberation, but for her it is hell. It means spending more time in the yard, and the authorities insist on it, insist that the sun is good for her and that she’s too pale and alone. They fear that she will break. She won’t.

 

She hides under a tree and curse Officer Reese for not allowing her to bring a book along. “Some exercise won’t hurt you,” he said like he knew what was good for her. She doesn’t want to jog, doesn’t want to lift weights, doesn’t want to play football with the others. When the ball reaches the tip of her foot, she doesn’t move. Pretends she doesn’t see it.

 

“Thanks for the help,” a sarcastic voice reaches her ears and she opens her eyes to find a short, dark-haired woman with the most blazed look she has ever seen. Root’s heart misses a beat, but she finds a way to smile.

 

“Anytime,” she replies, but the woman is already returning to the game, her dirty clothes marked by the sweat running down her back and Root wonders if there isn’t some quality to sports after all.

 

She tries to listen to the various shouts and screams coming from both the players and their little audience, but regrettably never hears that voice again. She heeds familiar names amongst those being cheered on; Morgan, Carter, Stanton, but not hers. When the hour ends, she wishes for the first time that there was another, and frowns.

 

That isn’t her at all.

 

At dinner, she ponders over her fad mashed potatoes and dry meatloaf – should she ask around to know who the woman was, or should she let it go? There are pros and cons to both and she likes to think it through, likes to calculate potential risks and gains of every action. It is while classifying architecture books on the following day that she decides she should pursue the matter – but still hasn’t decided who to ask.

 

Of all players, three she already knows. Carter doesn’t like her much; she believes Root is weird and probably insane, and the hacker thinks that Carter’s innocence plea is the most boring act there is. Then there is Zoe, with whom the brunette has a lot of fun, but there is always a price to pay. Morgan plays people as well as she does, and she found herself sold short on more than a few deals with her – even though she probably did the same to Zoe a few times too.

 

Stanton, also, is a risk. A bigger one. Stanton is dangerous and that is why Root likes to have her as an ally, but she knows better than to trust her. For the right price, she’ll get your message sent to any other inmate – be it a broken jaw or even a light stabbing, Stanton can do anything and always walks away from it, hands clean. She knows who everyone is and how to get to them, but it is a risk. Showing interest in anyone here is confessing weakness, and Root cannot have that.

 

She settles on asking no one, then, and decides it is much simpler to hack into the prison’s network and find the records of the newest arrivals. The next day, though, she notices the subject of her interest already sitting beside Morgan, and tries to brush it off as indifference when she sits in front of her.

 

“Been a while,” Zoe welcomes her, side-glancing at the new inmate.

 

“Yeah, it turns out someone had fun emptying two entire bookcases to create a small city on the library’s floor,” she replies, having a sip of water as she gazes from the newcomer to Zoe. “You wouldn’t know anything about that?”

 

Morgan laughs. “What’s a joke between friends?”

 

Root only smiles. “It took me a week, Zoe.”

 

“You told me you could get me access –” she stops speaking when a guard walks by.

 

“Water under the bridge,” the hacker replies with a grin, not wanting to discuss her latest achievements – or in that case, lack of – in front of the gorgeous newcomer. “I’m Root.”

 

She extends her name towards the new girl, who only glares. “What kind of a shitty ass name is that?”

 

The brunette doesn’t let that bother her, especially when Zoe nudges her elbow in the inmate’s side.

 

“Don’t be rude, Shaw,” she scolds, and Root gleams, though her joy is cut short by Carter’s arrival.

 

“Well, I’ll leave you two then,” the hacker says, staring back into Joss’ death glare. “Jocelyn, always a pleasure.”

 

She winks, grabs her lunch and leaves. In her mind, she’s already typing away on the library computers, taking down firewalls until she can find Shaw’s file and learn all about her. She could’ve done it without the name as well, she knows, but it would’ve taken more time and the guards are starting to notice.

 

It takes two more days before she finally has a window of opportunity to find Shaw’s file, and during that time, she sees her everywhere. Crosses paths with her in the shower – her skin riddled with scars – and then checks out one of her books – some science-fiction book she hasn’t read yet. Stands before her in the cafeteria line – groans at the food – and then rushes past her in the corridor – tools hanging at the waist. Every time she manages to flirt and every time, Shaw ignores her.

 

She thinks it’s a good sign.

 

When she finds Shaw’s file, she knows it is. Her story is one of violence and explosions, murder and chaos and blood. There is a note, too, that says that she’s been seen by a psychiatrist upon her arrival. That she’s been diagnosed with a personality disorder. Something about not having emotions.

 

Her heart skips another beat.

 

To hack humans, she manipulates emotions. She plays with them like a fiddle, just like Zoe uses information like an artist. She dances on the line, always, flirts and creates disgust all the same, all to have what she wants. Someone who doesn’t have feelings, well… that certainly is a new challenge.

 

In the yard, she stares and smiles every time Sameen Shaw looks her way, but she doesn’t manage to hold her attention for long. Not until the day when Kara Stanton decides to pay her a visit.

 

Root notices the look in Kara’s eyes and recognizes it as it is. Quickly she hails Shaw – who thoroughly ignores her – buying her some time. When she reaches Sameen she pulls her into a hug, and despite the other woman’s resistance, she manages to whisper in her ear, “she’s got a blade.”

 

And then Root leaves.

 

The next day, Kara’s wrist is broken, Sameen is still alive. And sits with the hacker at lunch.

 

Root doesn’t say anything that first time, nor does she later, at dinner, when Shaw chooses to sit with her again. It’s only at breakfast that Sameen ends the silence with a small “thank you.”

 

Root doesn’t know what to say.

 

That isn’t her at all.


	6. Don't Even Know Your Name [T]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meeting at the ER AU. Rated T.
> 
> Written for sameensgroves, ermagerdyoureproposing and doesntgoaway.

She stares as her blood slowly colors the fabric of the towel she wrapped around her hand thirty minutes before. Root doesn’t mind the sting of the cut, but she knows it’ll need stitches and the university where she works wouldn’t let her continue her work as long as she hasn’t gotten it fixed. She’s annoyed by the inconvenience and sighs loudly – probably for the twentieth time.

 

“Someone there?” a woman asks, pointing towards the chair beside her. Root shakes her head, moving aside slightly and taking her bag off the seat as to welcome the short brunette.

 

“I’m happy to share,” she smiles. “I’m Root, by the way,” she extends her hand, forgetting that it currently bloodied and wrapped into a makeshift tourniquet. She flinches and offers the other.

 

“Sam Shaw,” the stranger shakes it with a frown.

 

“I know, mine’s a weird name,” she confesses with a smile, her eyes locked into the other woman’s. There’s something there, something intriguing, and she finds herself drawn to her without really knowing why. “What have you got?”

 

Shaw looks even more confused.

 

“Well, you saw what I had,” she waves her wounded hand and smiles through the pain.

 

“Gunshot,” the stranger replies before staring ahead.

 

“Bad neighborhood?” Root asks, curious.

 

The woman beside her only groans. “Something like that.”

 

Root’s eyes roam Shaw’s body, trying to find where she’s been shot. As if reading her thoughts, the brunette sighs. “Right leg.”

 

“Oh,” she only replies, awkward. “But you should be treated right away, why are they making you wait?”

 

Shaw looks from the nurses’ station to her. “Bad accident on the highway nearby. Lots of people coming in, and in way worse shape than I am.”

 

Root doesn’t answer, suddenly noticing the lights of ambulances passing by, the unusual sounds of hurry and chaos on the other side of the emergency doors. She sees a few people being rushed through on gurneys and realizes her assistant Daizo might not be wrong when he keeps telling her that she doesn’t pay attention enough.

 

She hears a grumble beside her then, and frowns. “Is that your stomach?”

 

Shaw looks embarrassed, but doesn’t reply. When Root hears the sound again, she grins. “It is your stomach,” she repeats with a low voice, as other patients are starting to stare.

 

“Haven’t ever heard of being hungry before?” the brunette speaks with a cold and angry voice, but Root isn’t impressed – she’s had her fair share of people being enraged by her and doesn’t feel an ounce of threat coming from Sam.

 

“There’s a cafeteria two stories up, you know,” she tells her, but in the way Shaw flinches – or more specifically, tries not to flinch – she remembers her leg wound. “Oh, right,” she smiles awkwardly, “do you want me to ask the nurse to bring you a wheelchair?”

 

Shaw groans with a low voice; “leave it alone,” and Root only finds her frustration endearing.

 

“Wait here,” she suggests, but it’s not like any of them had any choice. She walks towards the nurses’ station, somehow imagining the annoyance growing on Shaw’s face, and it spreads warmth in her chest and the trepidations of expectation in her gut. When she passes the desk and goes for the corridor, she pictures surprise on the stranger’s traits and her grin only widens.

 

When she comes back, Shaw hasn’t moved, looking out the window with a blank stare. Root watches from afar as she walks over, loving how the yellow and orange of the city lights dance on the woman’s darkened skin. The knot in her stomach tightens when Sam turns to gaze at her, and she smirks when she notices a flash of relief and something like gratitude appearing on her slender figure.

 

“Here,” she offers her an energy bar. “I hope you like those, they didn’t have anything else.”

 

Sam takes the treat with a wearied look, shoving her other hand into her pocket. “How much do I owe you?”

 

In the background, Root thinks she hears her name – not the one she likes to use, the other one. The one her mother chose for her. She ignores it.

 

“A drink,” she rushes. “How about you owe me a drink?”

 

The brunette frowns. “What?”

 

“Buy me a drink sometime,” she repeats, smile unshaken, “Sam Shaw.”

 

She leaves, then, waving at the nurse to indicate that she’s heard her name, and that she’s on her way. Behind her, the brunette stares.

 

“I don’t even know your name,” she protests.

 

“It’s okay,” Root turns around, flashing a grin. “I know yours.”


	7. I Got Time [G]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second Doctor Who AU. G-rated.
> 
> Written for battlecoupleclexa

“Well well well,” Root smiled. “We meet again.”

 

Finch didn’t have it in him to curl up his lips. “It appears so,” he replied with a glare. The TARDIS door opened to let out two more people and a dog, and Root chuckled.

 

“Still travelling with quite the menagerie,” she observed, eyeing down the tiny brunette that was staring back at her with defiance.  _And a gun_ , Root noticed. It was surprising that Finch would ever agree to travel with an armed companion.

 

“If you’ll excuse us,” Finch shrugged, and with one gesture of the wrist, got his two little soldiers to follow him down the road.

 

Root smirked; he was always so predictable. Hundreds of years of random meetings would do that to a person, she guessed. “You’re going the wrong way,” Root mocked openly, following down the path anyway. A dangerous one, that was. She had nearly escaped when she had arrived here an hour ago. Not that she’d ever tell Finch and his crew that.

 

“How would you know?” the taller man grunted.

 

She had wished to get a rise from the brunette instead, but Root didn’t mind too much; she always played with the hand she was dealt. “I know,” she repeated, recognising the landscape. Mocking Finch was one thing that never bored her, really, but following him in death really wasn’t her thing. The last regeneration still stung.

 

When she came to a halt in the middle of the road, the dog whined, as if sensing the danger ahead. She pet him as the others stopped and turned around, all eyes glaring at her like she had done something Root – and well, most of the times Root had, but not today. She rolled her eyes and stuck her gaze into the brunette’s. “When you reach the second fork, ready your weapon,” she instructed, and the woman didn’t blink. “They will come at you from the left.”

 

She didn’t wait for them to question her words or to annoy her some more; Root had centuries of meeting Finch pretty much anywhere in time and space, and she knew very well he would not listen. He never did.

 

Even now that he was searching for the segments of the Key to Time, he had refused Root’s help and enlisted two humans instead, preferring the company of warm beating hearts to Root’s frozen rocks. That, too, still stung.

 

She returned to the TARDIS without a word, toying absently with her sonic screwdriver. It wasn’t as good as the first one she had built, but Root had dropped it inside a volcano once and it had never been the same after that. She had been forced to create this new one and she wasn’t sure it was working properly. Most of the time, it made things go boom.

 

Well, it sure made life more interesting.

 

The TARDIS – Root liked to call her the Machine – welcomed her inside. It was never locked for long when it came to Root; sweet words and she’d open up her door as if waiting with arms wide open. Root loved the old thing more than she’d care to admit, and she still wished sometimes that she had stolen it first.

 

“Hey there,” she smiled as she entered the impossibly large space inside. “Did you miss me?”

 

The TARDIS remained quiet, but Root’s smirk deepened. She went to the main console with soft eyes, her hearts beating in harmony. Her own transportation wasn’t as neat, she’d have to say, but it still got her places. Besides, she didn’t need all that space; she wasn’t as precious as Finch when it came to living quarters, and she didn’t bring anyone along for the ride.

 

Although, when she looked at that tiny armed woman with her grumpy frown and closed fists, Root wondered what it would be like.

 

“I want names,” Root nearly cooed before she started typing on the keyboard. There was no sense in trying to hack the Machine; either She told Root what she wanted to know, or She didn’t. Root had learned the hard way what happened when one pushed a TARDIS too hard. She still had the scar or at least, felt it – that had been three regenerations ago.

 

Three pictures showed up, and Root nearly laughed at the idea that the Machine had given the dog – Bear – its own file. How quaint.

 

“Sameen Shaw,” Root repeated the name aloud like it was a treasure.

 

She didn’t have much time to savor it; loud noises came from outside. _Gunfire_ , Root realised and she smirked once more as Finch, Reese and Shaw entered the TARDIS in a rush, smoke coming from behind them as Bear sneaked in last, still barking at the assailants.

 

“Told you it was the wrong way,” Root shrugged, leaning against the main control panel, checking her black painted fingernails like they needed to be done. Her pout didn’t get her much sympathy.

 

“Move,” Finch ordered, reaching for the controls.

 

Root frowned. “There’s a segment on this planet, you can’t just  _leave_.”

 

It was only then that she noticed the blood seeping through Reese’s otherwise clean suit, a stain of red headed downwards. She stepped aside almost instinctively then, eyes blinking as Shaw applied pressure on his shoulder. A desperate attempt to keep the blood in.

 

On the console, Finch’s hands ran wildly, setting unknown coordinates, but Root could guess. UNIT’s medical facility would be able to save Reese in no time, no questions asked – well, almost no questions. Of course Root would have to stay hidden inside the TARDIS, as she had been on UNIT’s most wanted list ever since the organisation had been born. She rolled her eyes just thinking of it; some humans really didn’t like pranks. So what if she had nearly destroyed London once or twice?

 

“Can’t you drop me off somewhere on the way?” she asked with a sigh, already expecting the refusal.

 

Finch seemed to find her request so absurd, he didn’t even answer.

 

Bored, Root went to sit beside Shaw, still pressing her hand against Reese’s wounds and muttering him reassurances. She stopped talking as soon as Root arrived at her side.

 

“The big lug’s gonna be fine,” Root told her, crossing her arms. “I’ve had worse.”

 

Shaw only glared. “I’m gonna take a guess here, and say that like Finch over there,” she nodded towards him with a curious expression, “you got more than one life.”

 

Root grinned. “Why Sameen, I thought you were all muscles and no brain,” she teased, although the Machine’s file had already told her enough about Shaw’s background to know that wasn’t true.

 

They remained silent for most of the trip, the both of them strangely finding comfort in the TARDIS’ noises as they landed outside of UNIT’s headquarters. Shaw cleared her throat then, keeping her eyes off Root as she spoke.

 

“So, thank you,” she muttered awkwardly, groaning when she met Root’s confused eyes. “For the intel. If I hadn’t been ready for them,” she started, gazing at Reese’s blood seeping through her fingers.

 

Root felt her throat tightening in a way that hadn’t happened since her early years on Galifrey, and she didn’t like the remembrance.

 

“It’s nothing,” Root replied almost absently.

 

Finch arrived at their side to help Reese leave the TARDIS and Root stayed behind, watching with a curious gaze. It wasn’t often that someone captured her attention; days usually went by in a haze of adventures, or tracking down Finch and his segments, unwillingly keeping an eye out for him.

 

“Travel with me sometime,” she suggested to Shaw just as she was passing the threshold.

 

Shaw stopped for a second, obviously surprised, before she turned around. “Never in a million years,” she replied with a shrug.

 

As soldiers gathered to help a wounded Reese, Root’s smile returned.

 

“Don’t worry Sameen,” she grinned. “I got time.”


	8. Bending the Rules [G]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teacher/single parent AU. G-rated.
> 
> Written for bluelemma

Parent-teacher night was something Shaw hadn’t done before – not something she had expected to do, ever. But somehow she had ended up being Gen’s legal guardian and now she had all those  _things_  to take care of, tedious tasks that she had never imagined she’d have to accomplish. Parent-teacher night, apparently, was one of them.

 

Gen’s school was a proper one too, and amongst the crowd of parents Shaw didn’t feel like she had dressed properly. Her leather jacket, for one thing, stood out like a thumb, and although she usually didn’t care much for that, tonight it bothered her more than it should have.

 

She focused on the list of teachers she had to meet, rolling her eyes when she saw her name;  _S. Groves_. Gen had many stories about that computer science teacher who asked her students to call her  _Root_  instead of the usual  _Miss Groves_ , who told crazy tales about AI technologies that didn’t exist and about how she hacked the Pentagon that one time. Shaw didn’t think she was a good model for the kids – she tried to ignore the fact that she was a trained assassin raising a fourteen-year-old alone.

 

“You’re Shaw, I suppose,” the tall brunette welcomed her as soon as Shaw stepped into her office, and Shaw frowned.

 

“Miss Groves,” she replied, ignoring how awkward she felt under that curious gaze.

 

The teacher smiled, leaning on her desk with a wicked grin. “Please,” her white teeth shined even though the office wasn’t well lit, “call me Root.”

 

Shaw winced. “I heard about that,” she grunted. She remembered how many times Gen had asked her to be nice to Root, how she repeated a thousand times over that she was her favorite teacher and she really wanted Root to like her. Yet there was something about Root that bothered Shaw, and she wasn’t one to hide those kinds of things, no matter how much the kid begged. “I doubt that the school policy allows you to use a nickname in class.”

 

Root smiled like she had expected as much. “I doubt you know my employer’s policies as much as I do,” she replied, unfazed.

 

It was irritating how she kept a calm facade, composure so smooth that Shaw wanted to crack it. She wondered how much time Root would hold under torture and shook her head; it really wasn’t something she should be thinking about.

 

“Gen is a very special kid,” Root suggested after a few seconds of silence.

 

Shaw didn’t like what that could mean. “She is,” she answered anyway, waiting for the curtains’ reveal. Whenever Gen was involved, Shaw had this urge to fight, like she wanted to protect her from everything and everyone. Gen hated that.

 

“She’s very interested in my class,” Root smiled proudly and Shaw shrugged. She knew just how much Gen loved that class; she wouldn’t shut up about it. “Especially when it comes to hacking.”

 

It wasn’t something Gen had mentioned, and Shaw frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Root bit on her lower lip and Shaw cursed herself for noticing. “Gen rewrote the school’s security firewalls so that her fellow students could go on youtube during class.”

 

Shaw repressed a laugh; she had expected way worse coming from the kid. She hadn’t stopped her delusion about becoming a spy, no matter how many times Shaw had tried to dissuade her. “Kids will be kids,” she winked, and the faintest of red colored Root’s cheeks.

 

“Yes,” she nodded, obviously growing uncomfortable. “Well, she also modified some of her fellow classmates’ exam results on the school’s secure network.”

 

That wasn’t good. “How come this is the first I hear of this?” Shaw inquired, suddenly nervous. It wasn’t like social services were going to take Gen away for something like that, but the worry was still there.

 

“I handle the matter myself,” Root smiled.

 

There was something behind that smile. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Shaw grunted, shifting on her seat.

 

“I corrected the results and strengthened the school’s security,” she explained, her tongue running on her lower lip absently. Shaw tried not to stare.

 

“And what about Gen?” she asked, crossing her arms.

 

Root laughed. “Well, she’s your kid,” she answered as if it were self-evident, “you deal with her.”

 

Shaw groaned. If there was something she hated more than parent-teacher night, it was definitely whenever she had to talk to Gen about important things like not hacking your school, not planting listening devices in the director’s office, and safe sex. She shivered just thinking about it.

 

“Of course, keeping the whole thing quiet could cost me my job,” Root leaned forward, a devilish grin on her face.

 

Shaw knew that smirk all too well – Gen had one that looked just the same. “What do you want?” she nearly groaned, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.

 

“Gen told me a lot about you,” Root batted her eyelashes and Shaw averted her eyes. “I’m kind of a big fan.”

 

Wondering what stories Gen had decided to share – the kid knew better than to babble about Shaw’s job, but obviously she had said  _something_  to Root that had peeked her interest – Shaw frowned.

 

“One date,” Root suggested, “and I’ll make it go away.”

 

Her voice was suddenly low and raspy and Shaw swallowed hard, feeling the faintest traces of arousal burning up her chest.

 

“Isn’t that against school policy?” she questioned, hating the hesitation in her tone. “To date the parent of one of your student?”

 

Root grinned.

 

“Some things are worth bending the rules for.”


	9. I Need You [T]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exes meeting again after not talking for years. T-rated, a bit angsty.
> 
> Written for this-url-was-not-yet-taken.

“Hello sweetie,” Root grinned, her muzzle firmly aimed at Shaw’s head.

 

“Root,” Shaw groaned, her face pressed against the cold asphalt of the alleyway.

 

Two fingers brushed against her ear just before Shaw heard the irritating sound of electronics being crushed. Her earpiece;  _fuck_.

 

“Give me your cellphone,” Root cooed over her, her hands always palming their way up Shaw’s side, searching for the device.

 

“Take it yourself,” Shaw replied, feigning indifference. It took two seconds for Root to lower her guard and Shaw made good use of her momentum; she pushed herself off the floor, making Root lose her balance. Before Root fell, Shaw grabbed her by the collar of her vest and shoved her against the brick wall, her arm pressed against Root’s throat.

 

Root smirked. “Just like old times,” she managed to mutter despite the lack of air. Shaw heard Root’s heel crushing her cellphone and she glared. “Except we’re overdressed.”

 

Shaw shook her head. “There’s no time for this Root,” she warned.

 

Something grey and cold rushed to Root’s eyes and Shaw tried not to wince. It had been years since she last had seen her and Root didn’t look so good. She released the pressure on her throat, fire burning in her chest. But there was no time to waste on the matter; Shaw had a mission – she always did.

 

“I’ve got a bomb ready to go off in five minutes and,” she stopped herself, seeing Root’s smile widening, “and you defused it already.”

 

Root winked. “Can’t let you have all the fun.”

 

Shaw grabbed the gun from Root’s hand – no resistance,  _weird_  – and stepped back. She eyed her from head to toes, seeing a body she had known by heart, changed by time and wounds Shaw would never guess. She frowned at the sight, wondering if Root was going the same thing. Then again, Root had probably kept tabs on her with the Machine, and probably knew what Shaw had eaten for breakfast.

 

“What do you want?” she asked, hearing the anger in her voice, although she didn’t feel it inside; she felt numb, and empty.

 

There was a shrug. A hint of a smile. Eyes avoiding Shaw’s. “The Machine gave me a mission,” Root started, biting her lower lip.

 

Shaw knew where it was going, what Root was about to ask, but that was impossible. She worked for Control now –  _again_  – and she had a job. A job that very well defined the people she was allowed to work and share information with – a job that listed Root as a wanted fugitive.

 

“Let me guess,” Shaw interrupted. “She wants me to team up with you.”

 

Root smiled so softly Shaw wanted to scream.

 

“It’s not happening.”

 

The smile disappeared, but not Shaw’s urge to yell. It tore her chest apart.

 

“I need you,” Root told her, voice cracking.

 

Shaw only shrugged, even though she felt like burning the city to the ground. This wasn’t fair; the Machine had sent her to work with Control against Samaritan, and after the victory She hadn’t welcomed Shaw back. Instead, the Machine and her Analog Interface had went on to fight a bigger fight, whatever that meant, and had left Shaw behind with Finch and Reese and the irrelevant numbers, like some sad parting gift.

 

“Not my problem,” Shaw replied angrily.

 

Root stepped forward. “I need you to trust me,” she repeated like a broken record and Shaw laughed bitterly.

 

“Root,” she shook her head. “I wouldn’t help you if the sky was on fire.”

 

“It’s going to be,” Root objected as some sick promise. “If you don’t help me.”

 

Shaking her head, Shaw fought against the nausea that came crawling up her throat. “You don’t get to come here and dump that on me,” Shaw warned.

 

She hesitated a second before she threw Root’s gun back to her. “You don’t get to come here at all.”

 

“Shaw,” Root almost begged, “so many people are gonna die.”

 

“That’s on you,” Shaw answered again, although she could almost hear Finch’s voice in her ear, reminding her of why they were doing all this.  _Every life mattered_. She had heard it so many times over the course of the last few years that it didn’t mean anything anymore.

 

As Shaw made a move to exit the alleyway, Root ran up to her, pulling on her jacket so that Shaw would face her once more. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” she insisted.

 

Her perfume invaded Shaw’s personal space like the old Root did, the perky psycho who flirted all the time and who had been so shocked when Shaw had kissed her that first time. That Root had died with Samaritan, and all that remained was this one, this Analogue Interface that obeyed orders, evasive and exhausted, sickly pale and strangely determined, like hell was just around the corner.

 

For the first time, as Shaw looked into Root’s eyes, she wondered if it was.

 

“Where are we going?” Shaw asked almost unwillingly.

 

Root’s eyes sparked for a few seconds. “That’s my girl.”


	10. A Foot in the Door [T]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Knocking on the wrong door AU. T-rated.
> 
> Written for halfabagoffritos

There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to keep Shaw awake through all this boredom. She had no idea how Cole managed to do this kind of recon for every number; only three hours in this stakeout and she already wanted to shoot her way inside the number’s apartment and  _demand_  answers. The wincing pain from her broken ankle reminded her why she couldn’t do just that, and why she was stuck on one of the most boring missions in human history.

 

At least she wasn’t working from a van like a loser; she had set up camp in the empty apartment next to Mr Mitchell’s instead. Cole had easily sneaked the camera wires through the air vents – after a fair amount of time spent on mocking her height and her lack of mobility.

 

Two hours of research had convinced Cole to check out Mr Mitchell’s security deposit box, which only made Shaw more impatient as she waited for him to return. The silence of the apartment was only disturbed by the pointless discussions her number was holding with his banker, and Shaw was about to call Cole for an update when someone knocked on the door.

 

She grabbed her gun instantly, taking off the safety as she made her way through the door, the awful crutch slowing her down. Instead of looking through the peephole, Shaw quickly unlocked the door, swinging it open with her gun drawn out.

 

On the other side, a tall brunette with a short blue dress that left nothing to the imagination smirked at her.

 

“You’re not Mr Mitchell,” the woman pouted, resting against the doorframe as her hungry eyes roamed Shaw’s body.

 

Shaw clenched her jaw and lowered her gun. “I’m not,” she grunted, moving to close the door.

 

That didn’t deter the woman. “I’m Root,” she offered her hand, batting her eyelashes like Shaw was some kind of mark.

 

“I’m not interested,” Shaw replied with a glare.

 

With a foot blocking the door, Root leaned in; “but you don’t even know what I’m offering.”

 

Her sultry voice only fed Shaw’s frustration. “An idiot could figure it out.” _Root_  had  _escort_  written all over her dress.

 

But instead of being offended like Shaw would’ve expected, Root’s face angled to the side as she scrunched up her nose. “Did you hurt yourself?” she glanced at the crutch and Shaw tightened her hold on her gun.

 

“I think you should leave,” Shaw threatened, although it had no bearing on Root.

 

She only smiled. “I was only being polite.”

 

Her foot pushed against the door and for a second Shaw lost her balance. One short second, and yet it was enough for the crutch to fall to the floor, the loud thump echoing against the empty walls.

 

“Let me get that,” Root offered in a rush, pushing past Shaw and into the apartment. After she had grabbed the crutch she looked around, evidently amused. “Not very keen on home decor, are we?”

 

Her mocking tone seemed to hold some kind of warning as she walked further into the apartment, ignoring Shaw’s precarious balance as she toyed with the crutch.

 

“Don’t go there,” Shaw ordered, with little effect.

 

Root appeared back in front of her seconds later, a mischievous grin spread on her traits. “I’m sorry,” she pouted again, “I’m just so curious when I meet new people.”

 

Shaw shrugged before she lifted her gun, the muzzle firmly pointed at Root’s head. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

 

The smirk widened on Root’s lips. “I’m Root,” she repeated. She plunged two fingers into her revealing neckline and pulled out a business card. “You should call me some time.”

 

Root ignored the gun as she offered the crutch and the card that a blinking and confused Shaw accepted without a word.

 

“It was nice to meet you,” Root purred as she walked out the door, “Shaw.”

 

Root was gone before Shaw ever got to the threshold. On the building’s security cameras, she saw Root heading towards the back alley. Just as she turned the corner she stopped and winked at the camera, as if she knew Shaw was watching, and Shaw groaned in frustration.

 

She quickly checked the inventory on the desk; her phone was still there, and the files on her number hadn’t been touched. Apart from that, the trash from Shaw’s latest food delivery was still dispersed in the chaotic mess Shaw had left it.

 

Even though she wasn’t naive, for a moment Shaw believed that maybe she had simply hallucinated her name. That maybe her painkillers mixed with the sheer boredom had finally taken a toll on her, like Wilson had predicted it would.

 

She really didn’t like that thought.

 

It wasn’t until Cole returned half an hour later that Shaw realised the magnitude of what had just happened. Cole was foraging through the trash over the desk, throwing away the paper napkins with a disgusted frown. “You’re like an animal,” he complained, not for the first time. With an irritated sigh, he added; “have you seen my phone?”

 

Something strangely akin to guilt sparked in Shaw’s chest as she understood exactly what Root had stolen from her, and yet she ignored it. “You lost your phone?” she mocked her partner instead.

 

“Shit,” the realisation dawned on Cole. “Wilson’s going to be so pissed.”

 

Wilson was going to be furious, but not as enraged as if he learned that one of his best agents had allowed an unknown third party to steal sensitive information from right under her nose. Cole was taking one for the team this time, Shaw decided, even as her thoughts returned to Root.

 

She was going to find her, and make her pay.

 

In her pocket, the business card nearly burned her thigh in expectation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the prompts I did on tumblr for Root/Shaw. I'm going to add more next time I open my blog to prompts, but for the time being, that's all folks! :)


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